"The cabin is that far away?" asks Anwel dubiously. Stellan's plan seems overly complex to him. Could not Warren or Imon simply call if they need assistance? What is the point of using the communication spell? More importantly, him and Stellan stringing themselves between the investigators and the camp leaves Vrag watched only by Udo and Andrei. Still, he is in no position to object. "If you think it is necessary, I will help, of course.
"My warning still stands, Vrag," he says, looking behind him as he walks to the edge of the camp, then turning around to keep the bugbear in view. "Please do yourself a favor and remember that."
Andrei thanks Stellan takes the necklace and puts it at the bottom of his pack. He wanders around the camp setting things up while thinking.
Perception:
Survival:
Stellan answers Anwel, "About 100 yards or so I think, within yelling distance but not for conversing." Stellan considers, "It's not necessary, just useful, unless there is some risk I overlooked."
All seems well around the camp. Neither Stellan, Anwel, or Udoeak see or hear anything out of the ordinary aside from the others making their way back into the forest toward Warren's mysterious cabin.
Not long after Warren, Imon, Gorax, and Tams disappear into the forest those back at the camp hear Tuney screech several times in quick succession.
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Gorax looks at Warren as the bird gives flight, "What's gotten into him?" he asks as his fist clenches tighter on his longsword and moves his shield higher for protection. He seems a little nervous, "Not keen on meeting any spirits, those that are dead should stay dead. I don't want to see no creatures back from the grave, you sure we should go on?" As if he wants to be as silent as the dead himself, Gorax makes pronounced movements with his legs and feet as he attempts to walk silently, His head flicking left and right, then looking intently straight ahead at the doorway, his eyes wide, though whether its through fear or just alertness, its hard to tell.
"This may be a good time to use fire. Let us send in a scout. Open the door and a dog goes in."
Warren summons a dog from the celestial plane.
Stellan reacts to Tunney's screech. He tries to job forward toward the other group, stopping when he can see them, while keeping Anwel at the edge of the camp in sight.
Perception:
Survival:
Imon started at Tuney's reaction, but calmed, or rather, stiffened himself rather quickly. "Hmm, perhaps the coward was right about something unnatural going on here." He wondered if he'd ever heard anything about this place. It was a longshot, but with the rumors he'd picked up as a lawman, anything was possible.
Hearing Tuney's screech, Anwel roots himself to the ground. His first instinct is to run after the others, to see what trouble they had gotten themselves into, but he had been given instructions and he will follow them til told otherwise. Gritting his teeth, he casts the communication spell to Stellan and Andrei. "What is happening?" he asks, his voice its normal volume and high, reedy pitch. The point, as far as he can tell, is to make sure the communication gets through, not to keep anything secret.
Tams looks over to the rest of you with concern and a bit of fear in his eyes. "I don't like the way that went?" He says while making a quick sign against evil. "How 'bout we just leave whatever it is well enough alone? After all, it can't hurt anybody way out 'ere."
Imon turned to his fellows and said, "The good news is that Vrag wasn't lying, the bad news is that there are rumors throughout the Stolen Lands of undead activity, so if this is the first haunted house we encounter, it may not be the last." As he spoke, Imon seemed to hesitate about what weapon he should be using. He held the bow in one hand, but his other hovered over the dagger at his side. He didn't think either was effective against the undead, but one could have more use than the other.
"Good call, Tams. We deplete no more resources unnecessarily, the Seed is priority one. We return."
The druid leads the group back.
"Then perhaps when we offer our prayers to Abadar, or Gozreh, or whomever, perhaps we might offer up a second one to the Lady of Graves, that the restless dead sleep tonight," Imon said, looking over his shoulder as he walked.
"What restless dead?" asks Anwel as Imon, Warren, Stellan, Gorax, and Tams stump back into camp. He lets the communication spell dissipate, there being no more call for it. "Did you see something at the cabin? Should I put a 'keep away' marker on the map?"
Imon shook his head, "Nothing so concrete as that, I'm afraid, though we found enough evidence that there was something untoward that we felt it more useful to return here.
"Untoward how?" says Anwel seriously. The last time they had encountered restless dead in these lands, the creature had not been under the control of his mistress, but that would not necessarily hold true for all such things. For Anwel, it is important not just to learn what they had found, but who was responsible. "Was what you found dangerous, or was it merely...fun, like the bubble field?" He is sure their fey shadows will appreciate that.
Stellan walks back with the others silently, speaking only after Anwel does, "I'm curious as well, I did not see anything except you returning when Tunney became agitated." Stellan wonders quietly, "More undeath, this land is cursed, can we break it free?"
Warren explains, "There is a threat in the cabin. We will be leaving it alone for now. It may not leave the cabin, but it would be best to realize that when on watch, that area is not secure."
He adds:
"We are out to get the seed. Gorax, organize a watch schedule and we can leave first light."
Speaking to Vrag:"You were right. Something bad is in the cabin. What is said about that place?"
"Summoned creatures normally do not," says Anwel to Gorax, inferring from Warren's previous use of summoned dogs that the one they had sent into the cabin was another. Anwel frowns: he should have been there to go into the cabin instead. The dog did not deserve the pain, and could tell the others nothing about what had caused it. But there is nothing to be done about it now, and he takes out the map and ink again. Next to the triangle he had used to mark their campsite, he writes in tiny letters "avoid cabin: undead?". They probably will not be returning this way, since once they know the location of Arrowhead Butte they can simply make straight for the trading post, whose location they also know, but Stellan is right that eventually they will need to secure the lands for the settlers. To do that, they will need to catalog the threats they come across but do not eliminate or mitigate, so that they can eliminate them or mitigate them later. Anwel briefly considers asking Vrag about what he knows of the place, but Warren already has that covered.
"While you are creating the watch roster," he says, "please bear in mind that I will be staying up all night to ensure that the food offering remains tasty." Anwel finds it a little silly that they keep having to revise their schedule night after night, but it is necessary when new people keep joining their group. "And do not forget we have to talk, Udo," he concludes.
Stellan nods at Warren's words, "If it's not a current threat then leaving it for now is good, it can be dealt with later, when need arises." Stellan busys himself with camp work.
When the camp is setup , he checks on any that are still wounded, and tries to provide expert care that will allow them more recovery over the evening. Vinur is "helpful" with Gorax, Stellan, and others as they do camp work, after being fed he curls up and goes to sleep.
Heal Care-taking Heaing for any that need it.
Udoeak nods, listening to what little is said of the cabin. Very well then, I suppose. I hope that inaction will not come to bite us, but we'll see how it goes.
Regarding the watch, I will be fine to take mine at any point during the night. And of course, I hadn't forgotten, Anwel.
"Anwel are you sure you want to magic up something for the Fey rather than giving them something real? Your plan is either going go really well or horribly depending on Fey. You know more about them than me so I'll trust you but remember their are options."
"The food is real, and so is the flavor," says Anwel patiently. "Neither is an illusion. It would take me years of research before I could convince you to imagine a flavor with me. While the spell lasts, this hardtack is for all intents and purposes, Qadiran Delight . The flavor, however, real though it is, does not last, and it needs to be constantly renewed. Imagine," he says, "that you are married, and cooking a stew for your wife. You do not know when she will be home, and once all the vegetables have reduced into the broth and the meat is collapsing under its own tenderness, she still has not come. You want it to be warm for her, however, so you keep it simmering for hours over the lowest possible heat until she comes. This is like that. Personally, I think they will appreciate the effort."
"Besides," he says, "this is not an either-or situation. We should all give as much as we can spare. What I am offering, and they will know this because they can hear me say it, is not just the food, but hours of delicate labor. Given that we leave at first light, I will also not have time to study my books tomorrow, and as spellcasters they will know what a loss that is." What Anwel does not say is that he feels he still needs to prove his usefulness. He should have been at the cabin. He was kept away because Warren, at least, still considers Anwel a liability, and he had stayed away because he was too ashamed to dispute it. His burial of the skull may or may not have appeased the fey, but he wants to be sure that they are appeased, one way or another.
Andrei nods "Alright should we offer the other thing I suggested too? Are you going to be useful for watch? Maybe we should just put Udo into your space, although Stellan and Imon won't be as busy tonight as Imon looks much better."
"I will be useful indeed," says Anwel, a bit forcefully. Of course Andrei would find out what was bothering him, and of course he would bring it up. "As for what else we should give up, give whatever you feel safe giving. For those things we hold in common, put it to a vote. At Warren's suggestion, I will...abstain." he says with a quiet chuckle.
Speaking to Vrag:"You were right. Something bad is in the cabin. What is said about that place?"
The bugbear offers a wry grin as the others return from their short expedition to the cabin. When Warren asks what the creature knows he chuckles and shrugs his shoulders. "Not much is said about it. After all, those who've gone in don't come back. Most Bone Ravens don't even come this way, those that do are sure to leave the place alone." He takes a breath and turns toward the cabin, somewhat relishing his opportunity to provide his captors information either accurate or not.
"Most believe a powerful ghost or other spirit occupies the old cabin which has been there since the last time your folk tried to settle the region. It had been abandoned for years, then about twenty years ago a band saw the cabin was occupied again. I think a few tried to drive off whoever it was, but that didn't go so well." He stops and drinks bit of water.
"Tartuk's old shaman, Rack, once told me he thought whoever had lived there was a witch of some sort. They had booby trapped the whole place and one day her own traps caught her. But who knows. There are a bunch of stories. I just don't mess with who...or...what is there and it seems to have worked out well.'
Andrei smiles to Anwel realising his discomfort on the topic and being out manueving by him on the gifts. Speaking quietly he says "I do think what you are doing will be useful. I don't think putting my gift to a vote would be wise, I'll leave the gifts to you."
Andrei will listen with obvious interest to Vrag but does not ask any questions.
"Watches tonight, first Anwel, Stellan and Thad, middle Anwel, myself and Udo, last Anwel, Warren and Imon while Tad prepare breakfast."
Anwel clicks his tongue against the top of his mouth. "Pitch in a bottle," he says finally, slowly, "along with anything else anyone wants to donate. I will take the blame if anyone wonders where it went. The watches sound alright."
Taking out the map again, Anwel adds "witch? traps?" under his existing notation. The words are beginning to crowd out the notation that marks where the cabin lies. "Thank you for the history, Vrag," he says. "I do not suppose, judging by the philosophy you expounded earlier, that any of your people have tried to talk with whatever lives there?"
Stellan perks up at the mention of a witch at the cabim but sees it could cause issues to deal with it now. He lets Anwel and Andrei work out there issues by themselves. At Anwels invite Stellan looks a bit forlorn. "Sorry to say, I have nothing worth much, a bit underprepared for leaving home I was." Stellan expression darkens as memories of that terrible of a few weeks ago comes back. Vinur nudges his hand trying to comfort his friend. Stellan breaks off and plays with his companion for a moment. "All I can offer is my skill as a healer and as a woodsman, though I suspect they'd have little use for either."
Warren settles in. Before so, he speaks to Gorax: "Keep wary, we may have company again."
Warren splits his twine fishing kit in two, and quickly pens some instructions in Sylvan and wraps them into a package. His advice includes using leverage for those of small body weight to avoid being pulled in to the water. He moves without trace to find a prominent place two leave half of his fishing kit with instructions and returns.
Even the small can fish.
"Oh I forgot to include Gorax, sorry about that, with undead and or witches around midnight is the tradition time so Gorax can join us on the middle watch."
"Thank you for the history, Vrag," he says. "I do not suppose, judging by the philosophy you expounded earlier, that any of your people have tried to talk with whatever lives there?"
The bugbear squints his eyes and his lips turn to a sneer at the elf's question. Then he pauses, leans back and let's out a burst of laughter. After a second or two the creature regains his composure and still laughing a bit says, "Ha. I thought you were ridiculing me, but I see you are serious." He pauses to catch his breath again then continues, "No. I haven't tried to...heh...talk with...whatever it is. Does a rabbit try and talk with a wolf?" He shakes his head and chuckles a couple of more times. "I prefer to keep my skin whole, not loose it to some mysterious thing that has decided to spend its days in a burnt out cabin in the woods."
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Gorax return after his hunt empty handed, "So much for rabbits, they don't seem to live round these parts. Them that do are probably bigger that yer average, damn well nearly broke me snare." he stomps around camp, a black cloud hangs over his head.
After he's watered and fed, he gets out of his armor and sets his bedroll down, a grumpy night tonight, "I must sleep, don't wake me til its my watch." And with that he pulls his blankets up and over his head.
"I do not think the rabbit and wolf analogy holds up under scrutiny," says Anwel. It will be a long night; bandying words with Vrag will help pass the time, especially during first watch. "A wolf never wants to be alone. And even if a rabbit did range near a wolf pack, wolves prefers larger game. Speaking of rabbits," he says, "perhaps it is for the best that we did not catch any. Our fey friends saw fit to dog our path with the remains of the last being we killed."
Once Gorax has gone to bed Andrei gets out the alcohol they recently bought and puts it out as an offering sits back at the camp fire to tell stories of Baron Aldori to entertain while they go to sleep.
Imon considered trading stories with Andrei, until he remembered that he needed to be up early. He went to bed, promising to tell all the lurid details he'd learned of Brevic nobility some other time.
Stellan shrugs and contines with his camps tasks. He settles in for the first watch, checking around the camp perimeter about once an hour quietly.
Perception:
Survival:
Stealth: +1 for hills or mountains.
Vrag waves a hand in the air dismissively in response to Anwel. "A hungry wolf would not hesitate to eat a rabbit, but what matters is one is a predator, one prey. Perhaps a better way of explaining my view is two wolf packs or large predators coming upon each other. The two do not get together and have a talk about who hunts where and how. They fight and the winner takes all." He takes a breath and bobs his head in the direction of the cabin and then goes on. "Whatever is in there is certainly a predator. For my part, I am also a predator and do not wish to become prey. So either I must eliminate the stronger predator at my own risk, or choose to avoid the others territory. So far I do not think the reward worth the risk, so I let the thing alone and move on to easier hunting grounds."
A few moments later a loud howl is heard erupting from the forest on the opposite side of the camp near to the trail. Whatever it is, it can't be more than fifty or sixty feet further up the main path.
The evening proceeds without incident until about halfway through Stellan's watch a loud howl erupts from the forest near the main trail. Maybe 50 or 60 feet further up the trail. The cry is immediately followed by the sounds of breaking branches and several loud snorts. Whatever it is, it sounds big!
"You have hit upon a very salient point, Vrag," says Anwel. "It is just a shame you are so wrong about it. Wolf packs do, in fact, negotiate over territory, with body language, scent markings, and shows of strength. Violence between them is a rare exception. Anyway, from what you have said about it, it seems much more likely that whatever is in the cabin is unnatural and unlikely to be following natural impulses. A better analogy would be a paranoid, suspicious individual lashing out at anyone who comes near them."
Anwel turns back to the offerings to make sure the flavor stays fresh when he hears the roar down the trail. He starts and shuts his eyes, but something does not seem right. They should have been able to hear an animal that big before it got as near as it sounded. Since the fey watching them have already demonstrated command over glamers, why should they not also be able to imagine figments?